The End's Not Near
by organdamage
Summary: A (maybe) one-shot after 9x17, just some thoughts about MerDer post renaming of the hospital


**some feelings, as per typical, and just some stuff I thought about after last episode with the renaming of the hospital, read and review! **

Meredith's life had been busy, really busy. So it was really easy for her to forget about Lexie, and even easier for her to forget about Mark. It was hard for to accept death and she realized that she should have learned from the first time death hit her that it was better to let people go than miss them as if they were living. That's why when her husband came home from the trailer in tears she decided to go to the grocery store and when her daughter asked her if "axie" was gonna babysit she decided to take an extra shift at the hospital. She couldn't handle accepting the fact that some people never come back, and her mind manipulated this concept so easily, as evidenced by her only novelty mentions of those who have died. But it was becoming harder and harder to fight the tears that welled so quickly, and to stop the sobs that rimmed her throat whenever someone brought up her sister. Tonight was different, though. Jackson reminded her that all of this crap about new leadership and the hospital turning over and the emergency room reopening and the fighting and the bickering was all about two people, and everything they lost.

She went home with Derek, a quiet ride in the car with Zola asleep in the back seat. It was a cold day for March and the rain trickled down the windshield and slapped the ground like a loud applause. It was easy for Meredith to get lost in the repetition of the water pattering the road, but the flutter in her rounding stomach reminded her to keep her thoughts in this moment. She noticed her hand so naturally wrapped around the bump, smiling at all the hope and joy she cradled. But her smile soiled quickly, realizing that with all this change she really did forget about everything she lost.

Suddenly all the losses that she never got to mourn came crumbling out of her, as she choked up cries that had been stuck inside for so long. She didn't want him to notice her emotional breakdown, and he knew that, so he just let her cry, taking one hand off the wheel, rubbing her back, letting out a soft sigh.

They had pulled into the driveway and he carried their daughter inside, leaving her in the car to collect herself. But she couldn't. She couldn't stop the sobs which kept resurfacing as hard as she tried to tuck them neatly into whatever box was holding all of these feelings that she never allowed herself to feel.

He opened the car door, threading his fingers through her hair, wiping away her tears with his thumb. He looked into her with all the misgivings and hapless thoughts he had. But somewhere in his eyes was that sparkle that she loved so much, that she adored so much, that made her feel safe.

"It's been one hell of a day, huh?" he let out a slight grin, she looked up at him, nodding as she let out another cry. "We can talk about it if you want, or you could just cry for a little bit more."

"That would be good," she replied, nuzzling her head into his chest, the sobs relentlessly breaking any thought of stopping the bawling session.

"You're gonna get through this," he added quietly, placing his hand on hers, "you're gonna be okay."

"It's just sometimes," she hiccuped, "it's so easy for me to think that all of these people who I loved so much, who I cared about so much, are still there."

She blinked back more tears, staring at her husband with all the forebodings of her world, squeezing his hand harder.

"And then today, I remembered, I remembered with that name that Jackson wrote down that they weren't ever coming back," she suddenly couldn't look at him anymore, now directing her vision at the wet grass, "and not just Lexie and Mark, but everyone.

"When George died I thought I grieved, I really thought I did, but I didn't." she drifted her hand across her head, letting out a sigh, "and then with Lexie and Mark I thought that after I was done, but now I realize, I'm never really done, am I?

"And then in the car right now I was thinking about all of these things, all of these people who consumed so much of my life who I could just forget so easily, because it's too hard for me to accept that their gone, I feel a kick or flutter, or whatever it was, and remember that this isn't our second baby, it's our third."

She began playing with the loose strand of her sweater, one leg shaking and the other swaying over the ground; she bit her lip as she brought her glance back to his.

"We lost a baby, we lost a life, and I spent so long freaking out when I was going to tell you about it, and feeling like a horrible person for letting myself lose a baby, that I never realized that that baby died. That was a life and now it's not and we didn't even say a prayer.

"I'm not religious, or whatever, but we didn't do anything at all, and what if we're just testing our luck with the next one? Honestly? Death just comes around whenever it feels like, and I'm reminded of that every time I remember Gary Clark or step on a plane, it's haunting us."

He felt his heart slide under his own feet, his organs collapse inside of him; he didn't even know what to say. She was so, so broken, and so was he, and he can't help it if they are consistently dealing with horrid circumstances, he can't run away from his own luck.

"You know," he started, gripping one of her hands, "I used to think that there was something wrong with me, that all of these terrible things happened to me all the time. But I realize that the thing about death chasing us all the time is the fact that we've beaten it every time. It comes running and we run faster; I don't call that bad luck, I call it good luck.

"And it's easy to think that Mark and Lexie, hell even George, aren't dead, that they are just gone for a little bit, because you know what, it is really that much easier. And no, we didn't set a tombstone or even say a prayer when our first baby died, because you know what?"

"What?" she whispered, lost in his words that although weren't an answer, were somewhat of comfort.

"Everything happens for a reason," he smiled at his life mantra, "we lost our first baby, and we got Zola. If we didn't have that miscarriage we never would have adopted her. And I think that that was meant to be. And I think that we only lost that baby for a little while, because now he or she is back. It was waiting before, waiting so we could get Zola, so Zola could get us. And now it's time for it to come back because it's ready."

"I guess," she sniffed.

"Think about it," he let his grin grow a bit wider, "Lexie and Mark and George aren't coming back, no, but that doesn't mean we won't see them one day.

"And you can't keep beating yourself up because you didn't 'mourn' their deaths, what do you think we're doing right now? And if you want to do something, something more tangible than whatever this is, then we can do that, I promise. But you're not a terrible person for sometimes going through the day without thinking about them, and you're not a terrible person because you get to be happy sometimes while they get to be dead. And you absolutely can't feel upset because you lived and they didn't."

"Thank you," she hiccuped again, "I really needed that."

"I think I did, too," he added, cupping her chin, kissing her lightly.

"I love you a lot," she let a smile break loose on her face.

"I love you a lot, too," he nodded, kissing her again.

She stepped out of the car, closing the door, and he wrapped an arm around her, walking towards their home together; a little less afraid of the past, a bit more confident in the present, and a lot more excited for their future.


End file.
